Does Not Compute
by jaxink
Summary: 2007 movieverse: Prowl doesn't understand why humans make up words that don't mean anything. Or maybe he's just upset he can't pronounce them? -oneshot-


Disclaimer: Don't own it.

_A/N: Forgive my strange sense of humor…again…_

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**Does Not Compute**

"I need those reports completed before the meeting with the American government officials tomorrow, Ironhide," Prowl said, walking side by side with the weapon specialist.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll have 'em soon enough," Ironhide responded.

The black mech enjoyed the company of the Autobots' second in command; he had missed his strategic planning skills and no-nonsense attitude. It had been a relief to welcome the tactician to Earth. But the GMC Topkick had _not_ missed his insistency of completing reports down to the finest details.

Wasn't a summary of his encounter with Starscream enough? They fought. Starscream was losing and flew away like a coward. Ironhide was sad he didn't get to obliterate him with his cannons. The End.

Despite the simplicity of his preferred method of filling out reports, Ironhide knew Prowl preferred more diligence and eloquence. And he was telling the truth — he'd do the reports. Soon. He just needed to procrastinate for a little while first. His thoughts wandered aimlessly, audios half listening to Prowl telling him how they needed to handle themselves at the meeting the following morning.

A distraction? A diversion? And as they turned the corner of the hallway into the rec room, Ironhide spotted the perfect excuse to put off his work.

The truck walked away from Prowl toward the small group of bots and one human assembled. "What are you three up to?"

Jazz spun around with a smile to face Ironhide and Prowl. "Nothin' much. Just soakin' up some human music culture from Sam."

The aforementioned human rolled his eyes and said, "This hardly qualifies as human culture, Jazz."

"Is it anything of value to know?" Prowl inquired curiously. He had not learned much about the culture of the dominant species of planet Earth.

"Not in my opinion," Sam said with a snort.

His guardian disagreed. "I believe it is worth learning about. I love Earth's music. There's no way I would have been able to communicate with anyone when first arriving here. At least, I did until Ratchet was able to repair my vocal processors."

"Pft, you still talk through the radio, Bee. All the time, in fact!" Sam laughed.

Bumblebee chuckled and nodded. "I suppose I still do."

"Then why are you learning about it, Jazz?" Prowl asked skeptically.

"Aw, you know me, Prowl. I love music. Any song, any artist," the saboteur said.

"What kinda music are we talking about?" Ironhide asked.

Sam shook his head, and then began rubbing his temple. "Music my mom likes. She was playing the soundtrack to an old movie when Bee came to pick me up earlier. It was blasting the whole day. I had to get out."

Nodding enthusiastically, Bumblebee continued the story. "And when we left, the song that was playing was quite upbeat. I told Sam I wished to learn the words to sing it."

"Couldn't you just look the words up on the internet?" Ironhide questioned crossing his arms.

"Yes, but the humans sing it in such an…_unusual_ way. I figured Sam would be able to explain it better. He continued trying to teach me when we arrived, and as he was, we ran into Jazz."

Jazz picked up from there. "So naturally, I wanted ta learn the words, too."

Hands on his hips, Prowl let out an intake of air from his systems. "Wonderful, more music for you to sing while I'm trying to recharge in our quarters."

"Aw, c'mon Prowl. It's just a kid's song," the silver mech said, tracing his fingers along his lover's armor.

Getting lost too easily in the Porsche's blue visor, Prowl smiled. "Fine, fine. So, what is this children's song?"

Sam spoke up. "It's from an older movie called _Mary Poppins_. She's like a magical nanny that sings songs with the kids she watches."

"Okay, I'm failin' to see the appeal here," Ironhide said gruffly.

"The song isn't really about anything. It's about saying a word that doesn't mean anything when you have nothing else to say," Bumblebee explained. He looked to Sam for confirmation and brightened as his human nodded.

"A word that doesn't mean anything? That doesn't make any sense," Prowl said.

Throwing his arm over Prowl's shoulder, Jazz said, "It doesn't hafta make sense, mech. It's just fun ta say! Super cali fragil istic expial idocious!"

"Come again?" Ironhide asked, clearly confused.

"Super cali fragil istic expial idocious!" Bumblebee repeated.

Ironhide shuttered his optics before turning around to leave the rec room. "You guys have fun sputtering human nonsense."

"Aw, ya can't go now, 'Hide! Ya gotta learn how ta say it," Jazz implored.

Waving him off, Ironhide scowled. "No thanks. I'd rather go finish my reports."

Prowl found himself agreeing. "A good idea. I have work I also need to complete."

"Not you too, Prowl. Ya gotta say it at least once. It's fun!" Jazz begged, tugging on the Mustang's arm.

The tactician tried to resist him, he truly did. But that tone of voice…those pleading optics…

"Fine. Just once. How does it go again?"

Sam chuckled at Jazz's ability to sway the stoic second in command. "It's not hard. Super cali fragil istic expial idocious."

"All I caught was 'super,'" Prowl said flatly.

"Try saying it in pieces first. Super—cali—fragil—istic—expial—idocious," Bumblebee suggested.

"But what does it mean?" Prowl asked anxiously.

Jazz responded, "It doesn't mean anything. It's just a silly, made-up human word fer a song."

"But if it has no meaning, why does it exist? The purpose of language is to communicate a message. A word that means nothing cannot communicate anything. Therefore, this is illogical," the police cruiser argued.

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're thinking about it too much. Just say it."

"C'mon Prowl! Ya promised you'd try," the saboteur goaded.

"Super…" Prowl began, only to trail off. He couldn't do this.

The tactician's processors were currently whirring and sending data back and forth, finding no logical reason for this ridiculous word. Humans were such strange creatures. Why create a word from their alphabet, only to not have it mean anything? Every word has a meaning. How can a word just be a jumble of letters? It has to have a message. It has to make sense!

"You can do it, Prowl. Say it," Bee tried encouragingly.

"Super…"

"Say it," Sam pushed.

"Supercali…"

"Just spit it out, real quick. C'mon Prowl," Jazz wheedled.

His processors just couldn't handle the lack of logic.

"Supercalifragil…" he growled out, battling against his protesting programming.

A warning began popping up within his line of vision.

**Warning:** _Does not compute. Vocal function being executed does not compute._

"Supercali — _frag it_! I've had enough of this," Prowl said with a scowl. He abruptly turned on his heel and left the rec room with frustrated mutterings about stupid human nonsense and illogical language.

Jazz froze in surprise for a moment at the uncharacteristic outburst from his lover before chasing after him. "Prowl, wait! It's just a song! No need ta get yer wires in a knot!"

Bumblebee looked down at Sam in confusion. "Well, that was unexpected."

"Yeah…"


End file.
